


Home For The Holidays

by justanotherStonyfan



Series: Three's Company [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 3 way established relationship, Angst, F/M, Iron Man 3 Spoilers, M/M, VERY BIG IRON MAN 3 SPOILERS, did I mention IM3 SPOILERS abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:03:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherStonyfan/pseuds/justanotherStonyfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have changed while Steve's been out of town (Iron Man 3 Spoilers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home For The Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> For years I loved Tony/Pepper, and then I got into shipping Stony, (obviously :P,) and after seeing IM3 I just couldn't rectify Tony with anyone but Pepper in my head. But then I also can't get rid of Tony/Steve, so here we are :P I still ship Stony, and Pepperony, and I've always wanted to write Steve/Pepper/Tony, but it was IM3 that managed to give me the push to write the three of them together :)
> 
> So now that you've sat through my epiphany, here's how this works - this takes place not only after Iron Man 3 but also after Cap 2. I know, that's quite a reach given that Cap 2 is filming as we speak but, for now, this is my headcanon and here's how it works - Steve gets back from [the events of Cap 2] to find things have changed. If you know the plot of Cap 2, this might make slightly more sense, but the only spoilers are for Iron Man 3. DO BE AWARE, THEY ARE BIG SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IRON MAN 3

Steve was tired. Still injured. Shaken. He hadn't slept for too long – he hadn't wanted to; he'd wanted to be back. _Home_ , his mind supplied, _to be home._ And it was strange to think of the tower that way, especially given how much had changed in so short a time. 

But being here didn't change how sore his eyes were, how heavy his limbs felt, how his head was spinning. He was so close, he was almost there, but he didn't like the itching at the back of his neck, and knowing it was nothing more than sleeplessness and the residual adrenalin didn't do anything to calm his nerves. 

And it wasn't just the need to be home, it was everyone else standing in the lobby as he crossed it. He could feel the eyes on him, hear the whispers – _that's Captain Rogers, he's an Avenger, he looks different now_ – the same unpleasant sensation as always settling at the base of his skull to let him know he was being watched. Being stared at. Being scrutinized even while he was waiting for an elevator and it wasn't like he was fighting to breathe but he didn't like the way his chest tightened the longer he kept his back to all those people, didn't like how he could _feel_ them watching him, how his nerves were still frayed, how his mind said fight and his body wanted to run. 

_You're back, you're safe, these are people you know, but _what if?_ _

Call it instinct, call it paranoia, call it being completely exhausted from something he never even considered he'd need to deal with. Whatever. But it was making his fists clench and his shoulders tense, and there was enough tension in his muscles already.

Shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the niggling need to _move_ , he took a deep breath. He took another one. And another, closing his eyes. 

It wasn't working. In fact, it was only making it worse – trying to convince himself things were fine was only convincing his mind that things weren't and if he just had somebody here who wasn't whispering about his uniform or how long he'd been out of New York, somebody to settle his head between his shoulderblades or wind her fingers in his hair and murmur-

Idiot. Voices were _easy_ , of _course_ he could-

He pulled his cellphone from a punch on his belt and dialed, to give his hands something to do, to give his mind something to focus on. When he lifted it to his ear, it had already stopped ringing.

_“I'm not here. We're not here. There's nobody here, leave a message.”_

And it unwound half the tension in his chest, let his shoulders drop, eased the headache. _Tony._

“If there's nobody there,” Steve said instead of voicing his thoughts, instead of asking Tony to explain particle physics before sinking to the floor in the elevator and just letting Tony's voice wash over him, “why did J.A.R.V.I.S put me through to your cell instead of taking a message _for_ you?”

_“I....often wonder that myself, which right now comes secondary to the fact that, hey, you're back!”_

Steve jabbed the elevator button a little harder than he'd meant to in his nervous impatience, flexing his fingers automatically as he prepared to wait, but the doors opened immediately.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “How are you feeling?”

_Welcome home, Captain,_ J.A.R.V.I.S interjected, and Steve looked up because he always did, stepping into the elevator with a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S,” he said.

_“Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm back in the city, aren't I?”_ Tony answered. 

“And the nightmares?” Steve continued as the doors closed behind him, because Tony was always good at avoiding things, and better at it if they were about himself.

_“You mean aside from him_ being _a nightmare?”_ that was Pepper, and Tony's sarcastic laughter followed a moment later.

_“Ha, ha, y'know, you are lucky that you're the light of my life, Ms Potts.”_

_“Mmm, lucky is one word for it, yeah.”_

Steve smiled at the two of them bantering but he wasn't really feeling it. He wanted nothing right now more than to just _be_ there and, despite the fact that J.A.R.V.I.S was in control of the entire building, the elevator was not moving fast enough.

_“What's your ETA, Captain Heartsick?”_

Steve smiled a little at that, a genuine smile, and felt it fade a moment later. “Heartsick?” Steve muttered, and he could practically hear Tony's shrug. 

_“I figure you must be if we are,”_ he said, and he heard Pepper laugh softly. 

_“We are!”_ she said a moment later, and Steve tapped his foot on the elevator floor, trying not to look at his feet.

He didn't want to be in the elevator, he wanted to be upstairs with Tony and Pepper and left alone by a world that felt like it was rushing up the elevator shaft after him.

Which was stupid, there was no way it was rushing up the elevator after him, like some mass of fire and smoke, but it was unnerving as hell, like everything he didn't want – the voices and the anxiety and the darkness and the betrayal – was in there with him, getting thicker like smoke trapped in by a broken flue. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S, does this elevator go any faster?” Steve asked, suppressing a shiver.

_“Hey,”_ Pepper said softly, her voice a comfort but not enough of one, _“what's the matter-”_

“I...should have taken the stairs,” Steve answered, as brightly as he could manage – Steve could deflect just as well as Tony. Because even closing his eyes didn't push the sensations back. Instead, it brought them to the forefront of his mind and he hated this. _It's not real, there's nothing following you, nothing behind you or under you or above you-_ and he pressed his back against the side of the elevator, shuffled his feet until his heels pressed against the mirrored walls and tried to think of Tony, think of Pepper. 

_“Whoa, elevator, stairs!?”_ Tony sounded irritated. _“You're in the tower?”_

Steve shook his head as the elevator slowed, swallowing hard to push back the sensation of _need to move, need to get out of the elevator, need to get away from the small space and out and move, move-_ “I'm in the penthouse,” he said instead as the elevator doors opened. 

In the split second before Tony turned around, Steve caught sight of him by the window, staring out at New York with his phone in front of him. And then he was spinning on his heel to stare at Steve.

“And nobody decided to tell me this?” he said, shutting his phone down to toss it at the couch. 

Steve didn't even bother putting his phone down – he just dropped it. Or, more accurately, his hand stopped holding onto it.

“If he'd told you, you'd've put on your suit and picked him up from the lobby,” Pepper answered, from somewhere over to Steve's right, and he turned his head to look at her just as she frowned down at his phone where it clattered against the floor. “Steve?”

“Pepper,” he breathed, quite involuntarily, already reaching out to her. 

Tony missed it but Pepper had already seen, reaching out to hold him.

“Don't I get a 'Tony?'” Tony asked, doing a remarkable job of imitating Steve's breathless relief.

Steve just about managed to get his arm around Pepper's waist before his knees half buckled and her smile vanished as her hands came up to help. “Hey, whoa,” she said softly, and he kept his head down to stop the dizziness, to get a little strength back in his knees. 

If he'd been awake or coherent enough to listen, he might have heard Tony's footsteps sound suddenly heavier, faster, but all he really knew was that Tony was there a few moments later, pressed up against his back, arms around him from behind. Months of waiting, of being apart, and here he was, back now, home now. 

Between them, they gave him enough support that he could stand, but it was a close run thing.

“Love you,” he said weakly, little more than a breath, burying his head in Pepper's shoulder, fingers numb when he managed to lift his hand. It wouldn't grasp her shoulder, wouldn't hold onto her blouse, so it fell to his side again and he shut his eyes. “I love you.” And if he'd had more limbs he'd've tried to cling to Tony, desperately wanted to cling to Tony, but he couldn't cling to Pepper and she was right in front of him so what good would it have done?

“Hey,” Tony said, too, and Steve didn't care that it was all they seemed to manage. Asking him if he was 'okay' was moot and so, realistically, was asking if there was anything they could do. “Steve, babe, talk to us.”

Steve didn't – couldn't – and he was endlessly grateful that they seemed to understand that. Pepper's fingers wound in his hair, Tony's fingers spread over his heart. They settled against him, and Steve figured he could maybe deal with this – standing still with his body lax, breathing Pepper's perfume with Tony's cologne, with both of them wrapped around him.

“When did you last sleep?” Tony murmured, settling his head between Steve's shoulderblades. 

Steve shook his head minutely, unable to find the words to tell them. It was as though everything had careened into the back of him like a freight train the instant he'd stepped through the doors and if it weren't for the rise and fall of Pepper's chest against his own, the rise and fall of Tony's against his back, Steve wasn't even sure he'd manage breathing himself.

“We'll come with you,” Pepper told him, and the last of it curled away from him, the last remnants of everything he was holding onto seemed to flow out of him like so much water.

“I love you,” and he only knew it was his voice because Pepper's fingers sank into his hair, massaging his skull.

“Listen,” she said softly, “you're exhausted, let me get you a glass of water, okay?”

Steve shook his head a little, lost for all intents and purposes, and Tony just held on a little tighter. “You know, if you're gonna listen to anybody, you gotta listen to Pepper, right?”

“Right,” Steve answered, voice barely audible even to himself, and Pepper drew away from him slowly enough that he could stand on his own two feet, and he felt Tony's grip ease a moment later as Pepper walked backwards for the first few steps she took.

“All right?” she said softly, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah.”

The world was making some attempt to come back to him now and Tony's head lifted from his back, Tony's hands slid away from his chest. “Come here,” Tony said, one hand moving to Steve's upper arm just in case Steve didn't catch his drift.

Steve would have turned to face him anyway but knowing Tony actually wanted him to helped stop the white noise in his ears. 

He was going to open his mouth to say something – maybe _'I missed you_ ' or _'I'm so glad I'm home and you're here_ ' but Tony kissed him before he got the chance and, really, that was better than anything else. 

“Tony,” he managed to sigh the first time Tony pulled away, and he felt Tony smile against his lips. 

“There we go,” he said. “I was waiting for that.”

Steve just pulled him closer, arms finally working again, one arm around Tony's waist with the other around his shoulders, hand winding into Tony's hair. _I missed you, I'm so glad that I'm here and you're with me_ , and Steve slid his hand up Tony's head and back again just to feel his hair, slid his other hand up Tony's spine and around to his stomach, over his chest--

Steve pulled back immediately, and was met by Pepper. “Here,” she smiled, and she was holding a glass of water.

Steve stared at it for a moment or two, then at Tony, and he shook his head.

“Come on,” Tony said again, smiling like himself, speaking like himself, kissing Steve again and it _tasted_ like Tony but--

“And then we'll go to bed,” Pepper said. “Okay?”

“Mmm, sounds good to me,” Tony answered, walking past Steve, walking past Pepper, to go and retrieve his phone from the couch. Steve watched him the whole way.

“I mean to sleep,” Pepper said, smile fading again, and she ducked her head to try and catch Steve's eye. “Did you...I can pour it away?”

And Steve did the only thing he could think of. 

He took two steps back from Pepper, turned his body towards Tony, and drew his gun. 

Pepper skittered away from him immediately, a loud “Oh my God!” signaling her shock, but Steve paid her no attention at all. It was easy to ignore her, just like it was easy to ignore everything in that moment that wasn't his finger on the trigger and Tony on the other side of the room, as he leveled his arm so fast he might never have holstered the firearm at all. 

As soon as she'd made noise, Tony turned to look, and then he was caught like a deer in the headlights. Steve's arm wasn't even shaking.

“Who are you?” Steve asked, and his voice was strong again, his words were clear again. 

Whatever fatigue had been draped over him like a blanket, whatever anxiety he'd left swirling in the elevator and up in smoke, it was all irrelevant now. 

Tony lifted his hands slowly, one either side of his head, and Steve shook his head as he planted his feet a little more firmly, gaze never wavering, aim never faltering.

“Steve,” Pepper said, sounding miserable, “what's-”

“Who _are_ you?” Steve said again, and he saw Tony's gaze flick to Pepper for a moment. “Don't look at her, look at me,” Steve told him. “You don't get to look at her.”

“Babe,” Tony said, and Steve clenched his jaw, “Steve-”

“Captain,” he corrected, and he watched Tony's gaze darken. 

“Steve,” Pepper said again, softly this time, like a hostage negotiation, and Steve shook his head again. 

“Don't, Pepper,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Maybe you should-”

“Maybe _you_ should answer my question,” Steve told him. 

“Steve-” Tony took a step forward, hands lowering slightly, and Steve took one, too, lifting his other hand to the butt of the gun. “Okay.”

“The only reason I haven't put three in your _skull_ already is, Tony's girl is standing right by me and I'm not inclined to give her nightmares for the rest of her life, but I _will_ if I _have_ to. Now,” he said flicking the safety off with his thumb. Tony startled satisfyingly and raised his hands again, “I'm not going to ask you again. Who, or _what_ are you, and what have you done with Tony Stark?”

“No,” Tony said, “really don't, Pep, I'm pretty sure he means it.”

Steve risked a glance to the side and saw Pepper shrink back a step or two. Whatever she'd been planning, Tony had convinced her otherwise.

“Why do you want to shoot me?” Tony asked, very slowly, in that same _'I'm on your side, we can work it out_ ' tone that Steve knew so well. He'd used it himself God only knew how many times, talking someone down, talking someone around. Talking, and talking, until they saw it your way.

“Shut up,” Steve answered. “You know damn well.”

“Then for Pepper's benefit,” Tony said, and Steve narrowed his eyes. Tony – or whatever that was – wanted him to show his hand, wanted him to give whatever information he had.

But it was right all the same – for all Pepper knew, Steve had just drawn a gun on Tony Stark, instead of protecting her against whatever this _thing_ was that had infiltrated Tony's life.

“Lift your shirt,” Steve said. 

“What?” Pepper whispered, but Tony's face cleared.

“Right,” he said. “I get it. I got it, I'm gonna do that, nice and slow; my right hand, okay?”

“Do it!” Steve didn't quite yell, but Tony just nodded.

“I'm doin' it, Cap, I promise you.”

And he was, nice and slow and with his right hand, just like he'd said he would, the other still in the air by his head. He lifted the shirt up, and up, and a chill ran the length of Steve's spine once the hem was up to Tony's collarbones, hair standing up on the back of his neck.

“There,” Steve said, because there it was. Or, actually, _there it was not._ “You see?”

He actually _heard_ Pepper swallow hard, and Tony was breathing hard, that was for sure. But there was only skin and scars. 

“You messed up,” Steve told it – whatever it was, it was not Tony. 

“I'm gonna put my shirt down, now,” it answered, and let the fabric drop, right hand in the air with the left again.

“You can do whatever the hell you want with your shirt,” Steve answered. “I'm giving you ten seconds to tell me where Tony Stark is. After that, I find him myself once I clean you off the windows.”

“Steve!” Pepper said, and Steve looked at her, blood turning to ice in his veins. 

“What?” he asked, and she held her hands out to him.

“Don't shoot him!”

The world kind of disappeared around him, turning black aside from the three of them. If Tony wasn't Tony, and Pepper didn't want Steve to shoot him...

“Are you in on this?” Steve whispered, and Pepper blanched. 

“Okay, hotshot, enough,” Tony's voice sliced through the shock induced stupor, and Steve looked back to him, turning his body so Pepper was in his line of sight, too.

“You just-”

“The arc reactor, right?” Tony said, covering his heart with his hand. “You want to know where it is?”

“I'm telling you you messed up,” Steve answered, taking a step back as Pepper took one forward. “Tony Stark is alive because of it, and you don't have it. Ergo, _you are not Tony Stark._ ”

“He had surgery,” Pepper said, her voice pleading, and Steve snorted. 

“Don't lie to me,” he said.

“He had it taken out, he had the shrapnel removed-”

“Don't lie to me!” Steve answered. “You think I'm an idiot? You think I don't know what you're...” Lying, always lying, it was always the same, wherever he went. People hiding the truth, lying to him and themselves because it was easier. “That's not Tony. Tony would be _dead_ by now without the arc reactor and you're still breathing.” _I will not let anyone do this to me again._

“You don't believe me?” it asked, and Steve shook his head. 

“I don't believe you.” _I don't believe for one second that you're Tony Stark because I've had enough of being lied to, of being played for a fool._

Tony sucked his teeth for a second or two. And then he nodded, dropping his hands to his sides.

“J.A.R.V.I.S,” he said, eyes on Steve. “Gimme everything you got on file Proof Rogers 45.”

And then, for one awful second, Steve thought the whole place had exploded. There was light hurtling towards him and he didn't even have time to reach out for Pepper--

And then it was just everywhere – blue and white and...

“What in the name of...” he whispered.

All of the light was lines, was made of lines of light, converging in shapes that he...that he recognized.

There was an arc reactor. There was Tony's body. There was a coil of wire, a shard of metal, there were words like 'satisfactory' and 'risk assessment' and 'arc reactor' and 'heart.'

And right behind Tony's head, as wide as he was tall, was a huge screen. On it, Tony Stark was lying still on blue and white and green, plastic and pleather, a tube in his face and a gaping hole in the center of his chest.

_“BP one-twenty over one-eighty and holding,”_ a voice Steve didn't recognize. 

_“Yeah, looks like we got it all,”_ said someone else Steve didn't know. 

Another screen flared to life, showing a petri dish full of tiny metal shards.

_“Give it another pass with the detector,_ ” and then _“Yeah, we...”_ a sigh of relief. _“We got it.”_

Another screen – the bloodied arc reactor sitting by itself, still glowing.

_“Well, Mr Stark,”_ somebody said, and Steve could feel his eyes prickling without really knowing why. _“It looks like today's the day you get your heart back.”_

“See?” Tony asked, and Steve shook his head, raising the gun again – he didn't even know he'd lower it.

“This is...” he managed, before he needed to wet his lips. “You're...it's a trick, you're...”

“Steve,” Pepper said softly, and she was walking towards him, and he was going to sidestep her, he was. 

“It's me, Steve, I'm right here. You saw the scars, they took it out, I'm safe.”

“I can't do...I can't do this,” Steve answered, halfway between putting the gun down and falling down himself, “you're lying, I'm not...I'm not crazy, you don't _have the arc reactor_?”

“I got the scars, babe,” Tony said, and Pepper was closer now, the black and the noise were receding. “It's me, I just...upgraded.”

“Steve,” Pepper said again, cool fingers settling on his wrist – not around it, not to move it, just to let him know she was there, and Steve shook his head, looking up at the blue and the lines and the words and the pictures.

“I...”

“Come on, Steve,” Tony said, his voice low, calm. “Let's go lie down, okay? Then you can look at the scars and you can...Steve, would you put the gun down?”

Steve looked at it, kind of surprised to see it still in his hand, and then he looked at Pepper.

“Please?” she said, and he flicked the safety on, ejected the magazine, dropped it. Pepper's fingers curled a little further around his wrist and he pulled it away.

“I can't,” he said, surrounded by light, by Pepper, by Tony. “I can't do this.”

“Steve,” Tony said, and he took one step forward but Steve was moving, sidestepping Pepper like he'd meant to do before, walking back to the elevator. 

And the doors wouldn't open.

“Let me go,” he said, shutting his eyes, lowering his head. _I need to leave, I need to get out of here-_

“Steve,” Pepper said, and she was _right next to him_ , so he looked at her, found her eyes with his and stared. 

“What else?” he said. “What else haven't you told me, what _else do I need to know?_ ”

And Pepper bit her lip, glanced over to Tony where he was coming to stand with them. Steve turned to look at him, too, desperate to look at both of them. Tony had shed his shirt, and that must be why the elevator wasn't working – Tony must have put the penthouse on lockdown, he never let anyone outside of the two of them see his chest. 

“You want the truth?” Tony asked, coming to stand in front of him, eyes wide, expression clear.

And Steve looked at him, at the scars in the middle of his chest, looked at Pepper to find her looking back. And then he shook his head.

“No,” he whispered. 

There was a long silence, and then Tony said, “what?” 

And what was he supposed to say? 

“No,” Steve answered. “No, I changed my mind. I don't...I can't deal with any of this now. I'm just gonna go to bed and...”

“Do you...Do you want us to come with you?” Pepper asked, and Steve looked at her. 

“I don't know what I want,” he said. “And you know what, if you're both aliens and you're gonna kill me, wait until I'm asleep and then make it fast, okay?”

The corner of Tony's mouth twitched up. “We would if we were aliens, but you're actually safe with us. J.A.R.V.I.S is keyed to a whole lot more than my voice. Okay?”

Steve hugged him, because he couldn't think of anything else to do. “Okay,” he mumbled into Tony's shoulder.

“Come on,” Pepper said, stroking the nape of his neck with the tips of her fingers. “Both of you. Let's all go to bed and sleep and we'll talk about it later. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Tony answered as Steve pulled away, taking one of Steve's hands in his own.

Pepper took the other one, and then they both tugged him towards the bedroom. 

“I'm sorry,” he said, as though that might make up for the whole thing, and they both smiled at him as though there was nothing to make up for. “I missed you.”

“It's okay,” Pepper said softly. 

“And let's get that uniform off you, not that it doesn't look fantastic.”

And Steve smiled a little, hands shaking in theirs, legs unsteady under him. Sleep he could do. Sleep was okay.

And as long as they were next to him, maybe he wouldn't lose his mind.


End file.
